Much Ado About Nothing
by Ivy Leaves
Summary: When Kingsport High puts on Romeo and Juliet, the world is turned upside down. Tyler and Val land major roles and encounter problems, Hank’s cast as someone he knows he can’t play, Jamie and Caitie are causing mishap after mishap backstage. Will every
1. Saints Do Not Move

# Much Ado About Nothing

When Kingsport High puts on _Romeo and Juliet_, the world is turned upside down. Tyler and Val land major roles and encounter problems, Hank's cast as someone he knows he can't play, Jamie and Caitie are causing mishap after mishap backstage, and rebellion is rising among the masses. Is everything going to be resolved for opening night, or has the curtain come down before it even rose?

CHAPTER SUMMARY:

_Val wants Tyler to audition, Hank wants everyone to audition, Caitie and Jamie want no part in school spirit, and Tyler can't decide what he wants in the first place. Then, when everyone decides what they want and how to get it, who's going to play what role—and who made the cut? Plus, what in the world is Brooke doing at auditions? Questions need answers…_

Much Ado About Nothing

"Please?" Val's voice was undoubtedly something Tyler liked, but by this point Jamie and Caitie were tired of listening and sick of answering.

"No way," Jamie answered quickly. Caitie nodded agreement. Tyler shrugged a 'no' as nicely as he could.

"Come on, guys," Hank put in. "You'd all be fine actors… and actresses."

Caitie agreed to the last correction, but apparently didn't agree with the rest of the statement: "Um, hello? Jamie and I are not participating in any talent show of school spirit. And—you're just saying we're good because you want us to audition. I don't know about Jamie and Tyler, but I didn't make the cut for fifth grade school play."

"Why's that so bad?" Tyler asked, interested. Caitie looked at everyone sourly.

"There were nine slots."

"So?" Hank replied.

"Nine people auditioned. Eight made the cut. One person had to play a tree and Betsy Ross. And it's not hard to play a tree." Smiles threatened to tease at features, except for Val, who had ended up playing Betsy Ross and the tree.

"It wasn't that funny," Val interrupted. "It's hard to play a tree and Betsy Ross at once!" That didn't help. Real laughs erupted.

"All right," said Hank. Silence—that voice commanded attention. "Who wants to audition?"

Val and Hank were trying very hard to convince people to audition for the latest school play—Romeo and Juliet. It didn't exactly help that two of the people they were trying to convince were rebels, and the other would sooner die than act.

_Well, _Tyler admitted as to his earlier thought, _I'd also like to kiss Val—a lot—and—_

__"How much kissing is there?" he inquired warily. Val looked overjoyed that someone was showing signs of breaking down.

"If you're Romeo and Juliet—then, a lot. If you're not… I don't think there's any."

_Fine. _Tyler grimaced at what he was thinking—acting! He hated acting. Maybe he was good at it—he didn't care. But he did like Val more than he hated acting, so… _I'll audition for Romeo. And if I don't get the part… well… I'll see Val more. And then, Val can be Juliet, and then… _Jumbled thoughts, but often those make the best decisions.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll try out for Romeo." He was rewarded for travails by a squeal and quick hug from Val. Meanwhile, Jamie and Caitie were casting him death looks like they couldn't believe he had gone to the "light side" for a pretty face. Or rather, Val's pretty face.

"Come on, you can work backstage," pleaded Hank. Jamie and Caitie looked at each other.

"Conference," Caitie said, pulling Jamie a few meters away.

"Okay," Caitie whispered, "let's do it."

"Are you crazy?" said Jamie, trying not to scream. Was Caitie crossing to the light side, too?

"No, just evilly wicked. Look, we want to show them that we want no part of this overachieving overachiever thing, right?"

"Right," Jamie agreed slowly.

"So we join!" said Caitie excitedly. Jamie shook his head.

"Lost you there."

"We'll show them that this play was only meant for overachievers and is pointless! So, we try for backstage. We don't get it, we'll prove our point—"

"Which is?" Jamie interrupted.

"I'm still tinkering with it," Caitie told him, "but pretty much that the play is stupid, is the general gist of it."

"Okay, go on." Jamie figured he should just let her finish and ask questions later. It'd probably work.

"And if we get it, we'll do a really bad job and prove our point!" finished Caitie.

"I still don't get it."

"Just say yes and follow me, okay?"

"Sure, whatever."

They broke and walked back to the others.

"We'll do backstage," said Caitie casually. Val squealed again, but, Tyler noticed with some satisfaction, she didn't hug Jamie or Caitie. If he got the part, would she hug him again? The thought was intriguing.

Jamie, however, seemed to be thinking that this was not intriguing and that he would not take Caitie's advice in the future if it meant listening to Val's squeals. Of course, she didn't squeal much, but Jamie wasn't willing to take that chance.

"We've got lunch," Caitie told Jamie as the bell rang loudly.

"Thanks, I know my own schedule," Jamie said dryly. The others did a double take.

"What do you mean?" Hank asked. "Man, you've got English—remember, you're a sophmore?"

"Not anymore." Jamie yanked a piece of yellow paper out of his jacket pocket. "'Mr. Jamie Waite has teacher's permission to switch periods for lunch and English. He will be expected to keep his grades above D to remain in this privileged time format and has promised to work half an hour after school on alternating Fridays with a tutor to close the deal. Signed, Mr. Mann, Signed, Principal Carlson.'" He replaced the slip in his pocket and smiled. "What do you think?"

"That's great!" Val exclaimed, first to speak. Everyone—except Caitie, who he had told that morning—echoed Val.

"How did you convince Carlson?" Tyler questioned. "No offense—but he kind of hates you."

"I told him I'd work with a counselor." Jamie snickered. "Beats me why I need a counselor, but hey. Now, are we eating lunch or not?"

He, Caitie, and Hank set off down the hall. Val and Tyler lagged slightly.

"Tyler," Val said. 

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for volunteering," said Val with a smile. "It was sweet of you." She kissed him quickly on the cheek, sending the teen into a state of distinct shock. Smiling again, she grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hall.

_Okay, _Tyler told himself, _now I am really glad I'm auditioning for the play._

_ _

"I do not think I can do this," Tyler told Val. "I really do not."

"Come on, you'll do great," Val assured him. 

"Easy for you to say," Tyler answered. "You already auditioned."

True—he had watched, invariably spellbound, as Val had read the lines. Now, true, he was probably spellbound because she had started looking straight him in the middle of "O, be some other name!" but all the same, he found her performance riveting.

"All right, let's rehearse." Simple words drew Tyler from a pleasant reverie.

"By a name/I know not how to tell thee who I am/My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself/Because it is an enemy to thee/Had I it written, I would tear the word." Words flowed from his lips as he fought to focus not on Val's eyes, but on the script. "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye/Than twenty of their swords; look though but sweet/And I am proof against their enmity."

"Very good, Tyler!" Val was overjoyed. Or close to it.

"Connell, Tyler!" The "director", as he loftily called himself, was the drama teacher Mr. Edwards. Some of the student body thought he was crazy, the other thought he was an eccentric genius. Most thought he was crazy. It wasn't his manner of teaching that was strange, it was his clothes—red ties with yellow squares, orange socks, a blue beret on a balding head, black slacks with a white shirt. Rainbow attire made him a moving target, but he was brilliant for a drama teacher if you were close to him long enough to find that out.

Tyler clutched the script and raced up to the stage. This was precisely why he hated acting. Tryouts.

"Act II, Scene II, Orchard of Capulets." He looked at Val, who smiled. Courage started to eat away the fear and wear it away.

"He jests," he began, "at scars that never felt a wound… but soft! What light through yonder window breaks?/It is the east, and Juliet is the sun./Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon/Who is already sick and pale with grief…" Tyler trailed off and tried to find himself on the page. This wasn't happening. Another brain freeze—stage fright had found a new victim.

But also a new foe. Val's eyes met his as he looked up helplessly, and Tyler was reminded of how much he wanted the part, how much he wanted Val to be Juliet, how so very much…

"That thou her maid art more fair than she/Be not her maid, since she is envious/Her vestal livery is but sick and green/And none but fools do wear it, cast it off…"

The rest of the audition went well. Val seemed to help a lot, somehow, but it would have been nice if she had acted opposite him instead of Claudia Dart, who was like a wooden puppet, controlled by strings that could not add feeling to her mouth or words.

"Final cut, main roles!" shouted Mr. Edwards. "Val Lanier, Tyler Connell, Alyssa Michaels, Thomas Woodrow, Courtney Mien, Jonathan Stewart. Miss Lanier, Mr. Connell, opposite each other."

Tyler and Val looked at each other, slightly worried, but walked up the steps to the stage.

"Act II, Scene II," Val said slowly. Tyler drew a deep breath. Adrenaline—this was why he had done acting those times he had, the same reason he did football—the rush, fast rush.

"…The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars/As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven/Would through the airy region stream so bright/That birds would sing and think it were not night/See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!/O, that I were a glove upon that hand/So that I might touch that cheek!" Tyler was getting into the role. Stereotypically, football players might not be this feeling, but speaking to hearts will move any person, and Tyler had never been as stereotypical as you might expect.

Val was trying very hard to pay attention to her lines and remembering, which was hard when she was looking into Tyler's eyes, and even harder when he was staring right back into hers. She wet her dry lips and began.

"Ay me!" Breath caught in air and spiraled.

"She speaks!/O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art/As glorious to this night, being o'er my head/As a winged messenger of heaven…"

Enraptured was the audience, as enraptured as often were the actors themselves, lost in blue depths. Seemed enraptured, too, did Mr. Edwards, until the nurse called after "My love as deep; the more I give to thee/The more I have, for both are infinite."

Startled suddenly, Mr. Edwards called "Alyssa Michaels opposite Thomas Woodrow."

Val and Tyler stepped from the stage, aware something had happened that had crossed the thin red line of friendship and brought them into reality.

While Val and Tyler had been making their big debut, Hank had been auditioning for three roles: Mercutio, Tybalt, and the Prince. He figured he'd probably get one of them, and if not, then he could be an extra Montague or Capulet.

"If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark…"

"You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, and you will get me an occasion…"

"Where are the vile beginners of this fray?…"

He wasn't an extremely good actor, but good enough. Not as good as Tyler, but better than some who tried for it. Either way, he made it to the final cut for Mercutio. Good enough for him.

"You did well," Val complimented Hank, trying not to focus on her performance with Tyler.

"Yeah, well, you two brought down the house. Great acting. I'll bet you fifteen bucks you got the parts."

"No way," Val said. "I need my money, and did you see Thomas Woodrow's performance?"

Tyler had to agree with her on that point—Thomas Woodrow had acted very badly, and he was saving his money for… well, something. He hadn't decided what yet. Maybe a birthday present for Val or someone.

"Just a minute," Val said, digressing from the subject as she caught a glimpse of blond hair. Familiar blond hair. "What is Brooke doing here?"

MAN, that was long! Hope you liked, next chapter will come soon… who won the parts? And what is Brooke doing there? Did Jamie and Caitie become backstage hands… or has Caitie's "point" already been proven?


	2. Ay Me!

# Much Ado About Nothing

"Brooke?" Hank asked, confused—why would Brooke be here?

"Right there." Val pointed her finger straight ahead at the blonde who had suddenly spotted them.

"What's she doing now, here?" inquired Tyler. This was a high school. Unless Brooke had suddenly been moved up two grades, she had no reason to be here.

"Probably wants our paperwork," Jamie said in a low voice, coming up behind them with Caitie trailing. Val jumped, then laughed and poked him.

"Come on, Jamie, she's not that bad."

"Yeah, well, you didn't have her hounding her about double inventory duty," Jamie told her. "I mean, just because I get stuck with extra work doesn't mean I need to do inventory twice on Tuesday."

Hank was about to comment when Brooke came within hearing range of their voices.

"Hi!" she said cheerily. The others just stared at her like a second head had poked out her shoulder. Brooke caught their gaze and rolled her eyes.

"Guys, I know I shouldn't be here, but I'm just—"

"Collecting our paperwork?" asked Jamie. Brooke made a face at him.

"No, I'm assistant director." The group stared at her for a moment, then started to laugh.

"You're joking, right?" Hank inquired, never actually thinking she was telling the truth.

"No." Two letters, but they made the group stop laughing immediately.

"Oh," Tyler said. Val and Caitie echoed him. Hank and Jamie came a little late, along the lines of, "Right… sorry."

"Where's Mr. Edwards?" Brooke asked, pretending not to notice their obvious discomfort. 

"He's the one dressed as the half-breed of flamingo and peacock," Jamie informed her, quick reflexes taking over. Brooke rolled her eyes and walked away. Light laughter ensued in her wake, until Brooke turned and called out to Val and Tyler.

"By the way," she said, "I saw the Romeo and Juliet scene. Very nice acting!" Val and Tyler's complexions rapidly reddened as Caitie and Jamie regarded them strangely.

"Okay," Tyler said, "let's go. Station duty starts in twenty minutes." Changing the subject evidently worked very well, because everyone knew Alex would murder them if they were late. Caitie shook her head as she watched them go out the double doors.

"Perfect people," she muttered before breaking into an uncharacteristic smile.

*

"Cut list is out!" Tyler said to Val, coming up behind her after 8th period.

"Have you seen it?" Val questioned, shouldering her bag and putting another textbook into it.

"No, heard the news from Gregory Martin. He's Friar Laurence."

"Great… let's go." Val closed her locker and started walking down the hall next to Tyler.

"I wonder if Hank got Mercutio?" Val commented idly, avoiding the thought that running through her mind—who had gotten the lead roles?

"Probably," Tyler said. "Only a few other people auditioned."

"You have to admit, though, he's not a terrific actor. Good, but not exceptional." Val was being truthful—Hank had been unsure of some of his lines, and emotion had been slightly lacking.

"True… but he has a chance."

"Definite chance," agreed Val. They reached the hallway with the cut list and a group of people surrounding it. Val and Tyler gently pushed past the people to see the list. Height was on their side—five foot eleven Tyler looked over the person in front of him as Val, five eight and a half, stood next to him as a person moved out of the way, uttering mild curses softly so Mr. Carlson, a man with the ears of a rabbit, couldn't hear. Val sucked in her breath as she looked up towards the top of the page.

_Romeo_ – TYLER CONNELL

_Juliet_ – VALERIE LANIER

Mercutio – HANK BEECHAM

Tybalt – ANDREW BERGMAN

Friar Laurence – GREGORY MARTIN

Val looked at Tyler, shocked.

"I got the part," she whispered. He nodded and turned to her.

"So did I."

And both of them knew that this would put a definite problem into friendship, and both of them knew that this was dangerous, but—at that moment—neither of them cared.

Val pulled herself away from a sapphire gaze to look once more at the list.

"I wonder if Jamie and Caitie got backstage?" she asked, struggling to breath normally, ordering her heart to beat at a normal speed. Sure enough—

Backstage Help

_Jamie Waite_

_Caitie Roth_

_Antonio Cortez_

_Mandy Marks_

_Ellie Tinstone_

Director

_Mr. Daniel Edwards_

Assistant Director

_Brooke Lanier_

"I guess Brooke wasn't kidding," Val said, stating the obvious.

"No," answered Tyler.

"Let's go," Val told him quietly, pulling him away. She needed to think, and it wasn't easy next to Tyler, in front of the cut list that had confirmed her best dreams—and worst suspicions.

*

"I still can't believe we're doing this," Jamie complained as Caitie pulled him through the door leading to backstage.

"Come on, all we've got to do is pull the curtains and man the lights. Can't be that hard."

"Yeah, right."

Jamie pointed to a case with thirty odd switches in it. Caitie looked as though she suddenly regretted the decision to become backstage help.

"Oh, dear."

*

NEXT TIME:

First rehearsal turns disaster when Caitie and Jamie handle the equipment a little… wrongly. Hank finds out that this role might not be as easy as he thought, Brooke has a blast being assistant director, and as for Tyler and Val? A little surprise may be in store for them. Will it be good or bad—and what happens when it's put into action?

Review, please, 'cause I like my feedback!!!


	3. Being In Night

Much Ado About Nothing

Chapter Three

"Here you go," Brooke said to Val as she walked up and dumped a script into hands that automatically caught it. Val opened it and looked at the blue highlighter streaks across Juliet's lines as Tyler got his script and opened it accordingly.

"We notated your lines," Brooke informed them both. Tyler nodded and ran his finger across a neon green line. "If you want un-notated versions, talk to Mr. Edwards. I've got to find Gregory Martin." She walked off, handing scripts out to people along the way.

"Well," Val said, "I guess she's really taking this to heart."

"You think?" Tyler asked. Val rolled her eyes at him and opened the script to the prologue.

"From two households of equal dignity/In fair Verona, where we lay our scene/From ancient grudge to break new mutiny/And civil blood makes civil hands unclean…"

"From forth the fatal loins of these two foes/A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life/Whole misadventured piteous overthrows/Do with their death bury their parents' strife," continued Tyler, not reading the script. "Remember, Mrs. Wallow made us memorize it freshman year?"

"Yeah, well, I can't go back that far," Val said with a laugh. "What scene are we doing today?"

"Act 1, Scene 5," Tyler answered absentmindedly. "I think Mr. Edwards said to rehearse a little."

"Great!" Val flipped through the electrically blue text until she got to the right page. Biting her lip and running a finger across the page, a blond lock fell in front of her face and swung for a moment, before Val tucked it behind her ear.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much/Which mannerly devotion shows in this;/For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch/And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" Tyler had a distinct feeling where this was going and suddenly regretted having chosen Twelfth Night over Romeo and Juliet when he had had to choose a Shakespearean work when he was a freshman and his teacher was obsessive about Shakespeare. It might have at least told him when he had do kiss Val, because he certainly wasn't ready for it now.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer," Val said. Her breath was becoming short in her chest as her throat became dry—below, just a few lines below where it said 'they kiss' in plain letters.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do/They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

Tyler and Val looked up simultaneously and met each other's eyes, slowly leaning forward…

"Hi!" Brooke's voice startled Tyler and Val, and they jumped back, pretending that absolutely nothing was about to happen. Brooke received a subtle glare from Tyler, and a much less subtle one from Val.

"What now?" Val's voice held a tang of anger, but Brooke didn't notice. Tyler, however, did, and cast an inquiring look at her.

"Right, Mr. Edwards wants you up on stage to rehearse Act 1, Scene 5. Bye!" She scampered off.

"But, Brooke! I don't think we're ready for Scene 5! Maybe we should do Scene… 3!" But Val's protest seemed to come too late, as Brooke was already talking to Gregory Martin. Val and Tyler climbed the makeshift stairs to the stage, where a few groups were rehearsing lines. Mr. Edwards came over to them and dragged them forward, chattering. Tyler and Val cast helpless glances at each other as he planted them in a clear spot.

"If I profane… with my unworthiest hand…/This holy shrine, the gentle… fine is this…" Tyler was halting in his words, nervous as a human being could be (and maybe more than that) over upcoming revolutions. His thoughts quickly argued their points. _Well, I do like Val… and it would be nice to kiss her… but not NOW!_ That would work for an argument as his mind screamed the last word. He still hadn't solved his predicament, but oh well.

"Tyler?" Mr. Edwards asked.

"Yeah?" Tyler knew what he was about to say.

"More feeling. Don't hesitate—just do what you were doing at the auditions."

"Sure," Tyler agreed. He felt a little sick to his stomach… would a doctor's visit work for an excuse? Val would never buy it, but…

"Start again."

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand/This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this…" Tyler's words flowed smoothly now. A revelation had unconsciously occurred to him—Val would be so disappointed if he quit, if he didn't try, if he couldn't. "My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand/To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much/Which mannerly devotion shows in this…"

The next few lines went smoothly, easily, both of them trying not to realize that they'd be kissing each other in just a few minutes.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take," Tyler whispered, his drama voice dwindling into a breath of air.

Their lips moved towards each other slowly as the role-playing ended and they were left with cold reality once more…

For the second time in ten minutes, they were interrupted a hair's breadth from each other as the lights went out in the auditorium. Screams and shrieks were audible—the high windows shed shafts of light, but not strong ones, and not many. The light held the room in an eerie darkness with halos floating from the cloudy day outside. Val stumbled back, surprised from the sudden fall of night, and tripped on a box of props.

"Ouch," she moaned as she landed on the wooden stage. But Val had realized something—she knew exactly who was behind this prank.

*

"Jamie, I don't think that's the right button," Caitie told the said young man, who was frustrated with the switches—he had counted thirty-six on one panel alone—after twenty minutes of trying to label them. Mr. Edwards had said they could experiment a little, just as long as it didn't disturb the actors, and they had figured it would take them forever, so they might as well get a head start.

"None of them are the right button," Jamie complained, running a hand through his hair and trying not to yell. "They're all the wrong one!"

"Well, we have… how many figured out?" Caitie was trying to be practical, but practical was never exactly easy for her.

"Thirteen," Jamie informed her dryly. "Thirteen out of thirty-six."

"Right." This was not going as well as she had originally planned.

"I'm just going to pick one and punch it and see what it does," said Jamie, annoyed.

"No, Ja—"

He punched a red button. Instant blackout. Silence for a moment, then, Jamie—

"Well, now we know what that one does."

*  
  
Brooke was actually having fun when the lights went out. She started running around, getting people in order, telling them where to go, saying everything was under control, and—for once—everyone listened to her, because she had a flashlight. Brooke had been going through the old drama club boxes, seeing what was useable, when she found a flashlight. Then the lights had gone out, and miraculously, the batteries in the light still worked.

"If you want to sit down, everything will be working again in a few minutes," Brooke told the person in front of her, tapping his back. He turned around.

"It's okay, Brooke," Hank said, "there's no rush, as long as everyone stays calm. And I'll turn in my paperwork at the station, thanks." Brooke cast him a dirty look before running off again.

Hank had been reading the script over the night before, and decided he liked Mercutio. There was this doubt, though, in the back of his head, that he couldn't play him. It was dispelled when he argued that Mr. Edwards wouldn't have chosen him unless he could play the part.

But doubts should be listened to more carefully.

*

_Here in the dark_

_Alone, so alone_

_I feel your arms around me_

_Ready to carry me home_

_And darkness set a long while ago_

_But for me it's still light outside_

_And the only time I'll ever be unsure_

_Is when tears fall from your eyes_

_I said dark is here to stay_

_And you and me_

_Can't wait another day_

_So let me find your heart_

_Dark is here to stay_

_And you and me_

_Will be here for another day_

_So open up your heart_

_Darkness falls_

_And I'm not sure what's wrong_

_Darkness brings a light_

_How could it have taken me so long_

# Dark is here to stay

_But I won't wait another day_

_For it to go away_

_Carry me home and say_

_Tell me you love me_

_The way I love you_

_Darkness opens hidden depths_

_Of unseen ocean blue_

_Dark is here to stay_

_And you and me_

_Can't wait another day_

_So show me the way to your heart_

_ _

*

Tyler felt Val's hand close around his as he helped her up. The lights came back on, and soon the auditorium was blinking to get used to the sudden light. In the midst of the crowd, Brooke turned off her flashlight.

Jamie and Caitie had escaped from the scene of the crime, and Val was sure on interrogation they would simply say they had bumped it and face a week of detention. That was what Jamie and Caitie did, the kind of thing they'd always do.

"Come back Wednesday," Mr. Edwards said half-heartedly, like he was tired and just wanted this to go well, a final wish before chaos took over the play. "We'll finish Scene 5."

Tyler and Val cast glances at each other. It was Monday. Almost two days to figure out how exactly the world worked and how exactly the borderline of friendship was to be crossed.

NEXT CHAPTER:

Hank's role is not all that it seems when his tentative doubts are confirmed. Jamie and Caitie decide between having dignity and getting out of trouble when they need help, and Brooke gets into an awkward place when Mr. Edwards calls in sick. Speaking of awkwardness, Val and Tyler decide just how far they'll go into the role—and realize that they were never acting. Discussions arise between them, and discussions reveal hidden secrets and show them how to face the facts.

*Well, all right, maybe my chapter summaries need work, but hey! I'm young and naïve!*

REVIEW!

~Ivy Leaves


	4. Third Time's A Charm

# Much Ado About Nothing

Chapter Four

"Pulse 130 over 100!" Hank yelled. Val charged the shock paddles.

"And clear!" she said. No pulse.

"140 over 100!" said Hank.

"Clear!" Val screamed. The heartbeat of the patient, a thirty-three-year-old man, was silent. _Clogged arteries_, Val surmised. _That's probably what started it. Should have watched his cholesterol. _The thought seemed bitter, but was honest in Val's case.

"160 over 110!" Hank ordered as a final result. No pulse no, no likely pulse later.

"And clear!" _Third time's a charm_, Val remembered. _Hope that's true._

The patient's heart began to beat, slowly but surely. Tyler checked the pulse.

"Almost steady," he reported. "We'll have to take him to the hospital for operation and oxygen treatment. I think his brain cells may have been damaged if he was out of air for that long."

Hank agreed. "Hope not and inform the neurologists."

Val motioned for Jamie to get a stretcher so they could get him into the ambulance. Tyler checked the pulse again: "Steady."

"Good job," Val told Hank. "One, two, three, and up!" They balanced the man on the stretcher, his breath coming harshly, but still coming. Jamie and Hank got him into the ambulance.

"Nice work," Tyler commented, directing it towards Val, before heading around to the driver's side. Val smiled and the doors of the ambulance slammed shut.

*

"Hank, you've got inventory," Brooke said, glancing at her clipboard as she entered the room. Groans were met, mostly from Hank's ears, and then from Jamie's as she added, "Jamie, you have trash duty and then help Hank."

The two said EMTs rose and, with good-natured moans, left the room. Brooke turned and left too, muttering about filing and chore certificates that she wished she hadn't cashed in. And Tyler and Val were left alone.

Silence invaded the station as Val worked on her algebra homework on the lower bunk and Tyler read Catcher in the Rye for English.

"Tyler?" Val's voice drew Tyler from the pages. "What in the world does this mean?"

It was logical to ask Tyler, who was in Algebra III compared to Val's Algebra II, but it was awkward for some reason for both of them when he moved to sit next to her on the bed and look over her shoulder.

"Aren't you supposed to be the overachiever?" Tyler inquired teasingly.

"You are, too," Val responded. "Now, the problem."

"Square the result and notate it. The x goes before the y when you add the third…" Tyler ran a finger across the paper. "Now, solve with the Quadratic Formula and multiply by 3.4 because you divided earlier." Val bit her pencil and wrote in a number.

"Good," Tyler complimented her. "Now, how fast is the ball going up if the downward push is 5.9 meters per second?"

"But how would the downward push be 5.9 meters per second unless the ball is going 60.37 meters per second?" Val asked him.

"Exactly!" Tyler exclaimed. Val did a double take.

"That was the answer?" She was trying to figure out how she had gotten the answer if she didn't understand it. But that wasn't the point, she figured, writing it down.

"How many more problems do you have?" Tyler asked. Val closed her book with satisfaction and looked up at him.

"None," she answered. "Do you want to practice the play?"

"Of course. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." Tyler switched quickly from normal talk to Shakespeare.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took," breathed Val. Somehow their lips were moving towards each other, and somehow they had stopped acting long ago. They had been supposed to kiss in the line before Tyler started—she supposed they were compensating now.

Electricity shot through her veins as their lips connected. Her hands let go of the Algebra II book and threatened to curl around his neck, but resisted the urge, gripping her book as if it was the last tie to the mortal realm and otherwise she might float away… which she probably would.

"Excuse me," a voice that sounded suspiciously like Alex's said. Val and Tyler jumped away from each other. Oh, man, were they in for it now, Tyler groaned, seeing Alex looking at them.

"I'll let you get away with it this once," Alex said, "because you're practicing for the play. Next time you practice that scene, though, make sure I'm out of the room."

"Isn't that special treatment?" Val squeaked out.

"Yes," agreed Alex. He smiled. "But it's also best for the squad."

Tyler and Val looked back and forth from each other to Alex. Alex winked.

"Now, I'm going to go out of the room for a while, and I may not be back soon, so if you want to practice, go right ahead but don't let it get in the way of your work."

He left the room and closed the door behind him. Two pairs of blue eyes stared at the door, amazed.

"I think he's actually turned human," Tyler said in awe.

"Have you ever seen him wink before?" inquired Val. "I mean, that was just weird. May—"

"Shh." Tyler put a finger to her lips. "You heard him. Let's practice."

_It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart_

_Without saying a word, you can light up the dark_

_Try as I may, I could never explain_

_What I hear when you don't say a thing…_

_ _

__Tyler let his lips follow his hand as he wrapped his arms around her.

## The smile on your face lets me know that you need me

_There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me_

_The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall_

_You say it best… when you say nothing at all_

_ _

"Aren't they cute?" Brooke whispered to Hank and Jamie, back from the inventory.

"I think we should dump water on them," Jamie replied. Brooke stifled a laugh and elbowed him.

"But it's so sweet!" she protested. The others, being guys, shuddered.

"I, for one, think it's sick," answered Jamie.

"I bet Tyler doesn't think so," Hank said. That made them all laugh, and Tyler and Val jumped apart.

"How long have you been there?" Tyler asked, looking at the trio in the door.

"Long enough," Jamie said with a smile. Val and Tyler leaped up menacingly and ran after them.

"Not good," mentioned Jamie to Hank. To Val and Tyler, it was more like, "I didn't mean it!"

## All day long I can hear people talking out loud

_But when you hold me near, you can drown out the crowd_

_Try as they may, they could never define_

_What's been said between your heart and mine…_

_ _

"I think they're gone," Val said with satisfaction, watching the fleeing staff members.

"You think Alex is gone, too?" inquired Tyler gently, propping her chin on his finger.

"Hope so," whispered Val, wrapping her arms around his neck. Tyler pulled her in for a kiss, slowly and surely, leaving her melted in his arms like honey.

## The smile on your face lets me know that you love me

_There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me_

_The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall_

_You say it best… when you saynothing at all_

_ _

__Alex looked in the window with a grin.

"I'll let them enjoy while they can," he said to himself, deciding. "They're bound to get a call sooner or later."

Almost like he had told the future in a crystal ball, the siren went off and Tyler and Val jumped apart. Hank marched in, Jamie following him.

"Twenty-nine-year-old female, back injury from falling off the roof," Hank reported. Val and Tyler followed him out.

"Spinal injury?" Val asked, business-like as ever.

"Not that we know of."

"Let's go," were the last words Alex heard from Tyler's lips as they ran into the garage.

"Yes," Alex said to the empty hallway. "Oh, yes, this could certainly work out."

## The smile on your face lets me know that you need me

_There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me_

_The touch of your hand says you'll be there whenever I fall_

_You say it best when you say nothing at all_

_ _

_The smile on your face_

_The truth in your eyes_

_The touch of your hand_

_Lets me know that you need me…_

_ _

_ _

DISCLAIMER: Song belongs to Ronan Keating, "When You Say Nothing At All" Characters belong to Disney Channel and Alliance, plot belongs to me. Ciao!


	5. Improvisation

Much Ado About Nothing

Much Ado About Nothing

Chapter 5: "Improvisation"

"Hey," Val said, stepping up to Tyler anxiously. He stopped looking through his locker and turned to her, brightening.

"Hi, Val!" Val, in return, bit her lip. This was very awkward.

"So, Tyler… I think that, you know, yesterday? We need to talk about it, because—" But Tyler didn't get to hear why they needed to talk, because the bell rang.

"We'll talk later, okay? I'm already late for Calc," he said before pushing off into the crowd. Val looked after him with a sad expression on her face.

"Whoever invented the expression 'saved by the bell' was very much mistaken," she said crossly.

*

Val didn't see Tyler for a whole two periods, because her History class was in a different hallway than Tyler's, and then she had Spanish, and Tyler took Latin instead of Spanish. Luckily for her, they both had sixth period lunch, and she tracked him down then.

"Tyler," Val greeted him, coming up from behind in the lunch line. Apparently he had been startled, because an apple went tumbling over his shoulder. Val neatly caught it, handed it to him, and balanced her tray for _her _apple.

"Thanks," he replied politely as the cafeteria worker gave him green beans. "You surprised me."

"And here I was, thinking you were totally under control," teased Val. Tyler scrunched his nose like he had been about to make a face and stick out his tongue but thought better of it. Val stifled a giggle before remembering exactly what she had wanted to talk to Tyler about. She accepted the chocolate pudding placed haphazardly on her plate before breaking from the line with Tyler.

"There's Hank," Tyler said enthusiastically. Val tugged his arm before the wave could attract Hank's attention.

"I need to talk to you, Tyler," she informed him. "Without Hank. Without other people. _Privately_." Her grip on his arm helped her direct him into courtyard. Val sat down at a picnic table and motioned for him to sit across from her.

"So," she began awkwardly, "about yesterday."

"Oh—right. Look, Val, I understand if you really don't want to—"

"No." Val shook her head with vehemence, sending a blond strand whipping across her cheek. "Nothing like that."

Tyler was relieved, and it was evident in his features.

"Okay, then… what?" He was puzzled.

"I don't know," Val said tearfully, burying her face in her arms. Tyler had never seen her so shaken before.

"Look, I know it's not easy, but…well, Alex said it was okay," finished Tyler helplessly. "And I really, really do like you, like, a lot and so…do you want to go out sometime?" Whoa. Where had THAT come from?

"What?" Val looked up. "Go out? As in, with you?" Oh dear. This was odd.

"Well, sure. I mean, I'm really trying to, um, be sensitive, but it's not really working. So I'll just ask you out. Right. Yeah." Tyler shifted uneasily. This was very, very messed-up. "Uh huh. That'll work. And, um, I'll try to be sensitive if you want that instead." He was turning red now.

"You're blushing," Val accused him. He put his face in his hands.

"This really isn't what was supposed to happen, you know," he informed her, mumbling through his hands.

"Okay, sure."

"Sure what?"

"Sure, I'll go out with you." Val smiled. This was too funny. Way too funny.

"You will?" Tyler looked up from his hands in a state of shock.

"Sure," Val said for the third time. "I'd love that."

"I'm supposed to kiss you now, right?" Tyler asked. Val smiled again, her eyes laughing. This was some sort of comedy…but a very nice comedy at that. Very fun. And the most fun part was coming up…

"Ideally," she said. He matched her smile with one of his own.

"It's not in the script," Tyler informed her teasingly. "I think maybe we should pay attention to the script."

Val reached out and buried her fingers in his hair.

"Improv," she said before his lips stopped her voice.

*

"Right," said Mr. Edwards. Um, we'll start from where we were last time. You can go back a few lines to get in character if you want…action."

"…Ready stand/To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss," Tyler said, picking a starting point several lines before the kiss.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much/Which mannerly devotion shows in this/For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch/And hand to hand is holy palmers kiss." Their hands intertwined in front of them.

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" The role was very easy to get into when he had kissed Val again at lunchtime that day.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that must be used in prayer." Her voice was dry as she read for some reason. It might be the way Tyler was boring into her eyes like he could see her soul. Val swallowed.

"O, then, dear saint," Was this play trying to hurt him with reality? Because Val certainly WAS a saint, "let lips do what hands do/They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayer's sake," Val said, returning the soul-searching gaze.

"Then move not while my prayer's effect I take."

For once while they had been practicing that line, no one interrupted them before their lips connected gently.

And stayed connected. And stayed connected. And stayed connected. And stayed connected… as they fell to the floor, still clinging to each other.

"That wasn't in the script," moaned Mr. Edwards, looking down at the oblivious couple.

"Improvisation," Caitie cut in with a smile.

*

That was THROUGHLY messed up. Oh well. Live… and die… with it. I'm not in a good mood. It's Flame Ivy Leaves week or something, because I have two flames on Miracle and two on SWFY. *breaks down in tears* Don't you people have anything BETTER to do with your time than flame? I mean, come on. It's not very nice. I'm going to undergo an oppressive state of self-pity in which I eat lots and lots of ice cream soon, and I'm not kidding.

---IVY

P.S. – Just to all the flamers, I am AWARE it sucks. No need to tell me again. There IS such a thing as constructive criticism, and if you don't know what that is, well, then, don't review. I'd rather have less reviews with compliments than lots of reviews with insults. I'm not trying to be a bad sport or anything, but it can be hurtful, okays? Look, never mind. Forget it. I don't care. I'll just go see what ice cream we have in the freezer. *grins* 


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